


a history that haunts

by lostinthefire



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, M/M, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, kind of, really fucking dubious consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:25:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthefire/pseuds/lostinthefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky doesn't know what it means to be able to deny someone and not suffer consequences.  Steve doesn't entirely realize this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a history that haunts

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something for PBAM really badly and somehow this turned into more feelings than porn. Whoops.

"Do you want this?"

He's on his knees, Steve's hand in his hair and against his cheek. He knows he should answer, should give him an honest one at that, but the words stick in his throat. 

Did it matter if he wanted it? Did it really make that much of a difference?

To Steve, it might have. To kind, wonderful, caring Steve it may have actually been worth answering honestly but that's not how things worked until that point. Far too much was tangled in his brain with saying 'no'. There was the taste of blood, the sharp and dull pains, the promise of more each time he denied someone until he was left on the ground, useless and limp.

He shudders and while Steve's face is growing concerned, he hasn't pulled away yet, hasn't allowed him to mess up enough to warrant a punishment.

Because that's what is waiting for him if he says anything but an enthusiastic yes. He knows that even now in the safest place he's ever ben, he knows in the animal part of his brain that 'no' is never an option in situations like this.

He nods his head after a moment, leaning up and pressing his mouth to Steve's, kissing him hard, hands moving to pull him closer. The other hesitates for a moment but melts into it a moment later, returning the kiss with more assurance.

Hands fumble at each other, clothes pulled off, hands exploring the bodies that had one been so familiar, now both changed with the passage of time.

He makes himself keep breathing when Steve brushes against various scars along his body. It's hard, he gets dizzy and anxious and is terrified he's going to make Steve stop but he never does. 

It's not that Steve doesn't notice, he feels his hesitation in a few moments, but he leans into the touch, forcing himself to calm down and accept the affection and kindness. Because this is such kindness indeed. Sweet touches and gentle kisses, even the harder, more wanting ones never involve blood or forcing him down as he thrashes to get away before his instincts kick in. 

No, this is kindness and nothing more and he knows he has no right to try and push it away. Steve is so invested in making him feel wanted, it's so odd. Nice, of course, but odd. 

He has memories, knows what they were to a point. There's not enough in his head yet to feed him everything but he can put two and two together and know that Steve missed him in every possible way. That they had been each other's missing piece, that they belonged together and for a time, their lives were nothing but trying to find ways to get closer. 

And now he can do this, can give him this and show him how much he was missed, how much he wants him closer. 

He has an obligation to let Steve do this, to let him release all that guilt and emotion and sadness in this act.

Whether he himself wants it or not.

Swallowing for a moment when the world starts to go black at the edges, he forces his breath to slow a little, concentrating more on that than the way his mouth travels across Steve's neck, the ways his hands pull at his hips. All that is automatic, a programming like so many other things he can do. It doesn't require real thought and he does it without blinking.

His eyes are closed, though, keeping Stee from seeing the almost glazed over expression he's probably wearing as he travels down Steve's body. He mouths at Steve's hip, sucking and biting until there's an angry red mark and he's is trying hard not to thrust into him. 

He can feel every twitch of the other's hips, hear every soft noise he pulls from him. He would almost be proud if there wasn't the pit of shame in his belly telling him he's fucking this up. Something inside him is telling him this is wrong, broken compared to what he should be doing. It makes Steve's skin taste sour in his mouth, taste like too many people he never wanted near him, taste like the sweat and grime that used to taint his mouth right before he tried to say no.

But he swallows it down, knowing better than that now, knowing he has to behave otherwise he gets what's coming to him

And he doesn't want to make Steve do that. He can see him now, holding up knives to his skin, saying he is so sorry every time he breaks the skin. Or something else, Steve with the controls to his collar, forcing the electricity to course through him until he's left twitching on the floor, eyes in the back of his head and body useless to anyone, especially himself.

He can't make Steve see he's worth keeping if he's on the ground, a drooling, twitching mess of a thing. He can't make him see that he's good now, better than he's ever been and he'll do anything Steve wants. He's his now, he just needs to tell him what to do.

And maybe this isn't he way tt do it, to take Steve's cock into his mouth, to wrap his hand around the base, using his own saliva to make the motions easier as he kitten licks at the head, tongue teasing the top and making Steve curse low and loud all at once.

He takes more of him in, swallowing Steve down until he's hitting the back of his throat and almost making him choke. He has an impressive gag reflex though and as Steve thrusts up into him, more curses and words of praise spilling from his lips, he considers himself gifted for it.

Because he can do this, can take Steve inside his mouth, let him fuck it until tears are welling up in his eyes and Steve is coming hard, hands in his hair pulling tight and saying his name like a prayer.

He keeps him in his mouth until Steve is slumping into the bed, tired and grinning a little. Using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, he moves to pillow his head against Steve's thigh.

"I did good, right?" It comes out soft, hopeful even. He can't bring himself to meet Steve's eyes but the way his hair is being pet, the way fingers travel down his face and the back of his neck tells him he must not have done horribly.

"'Course," steve says, all breathless and pleased. "'Course you did, Buck. You were...You're wonderful."

The compliment makes his stomach clench up, body tensing and now that he's not all over Steve, he notices it too.

"Hey," he says, voice gentle as he moves to his elbows to look at him. "What's going on? You okay?"

He nods, eyes closed, his own breathing carefully regulated. "Yeah M'good. Don't worry."

"Bucky..."

"I'm fine." And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he smiles up at him. "Promise."

Steve looks like he wants to say something but bites it back, nodding his head and pressing fingers into the side of his neck and massaging there, then his jaw and a little at his temples. 

"You were really good," he tells him after a quiet moment. "The best thing I could have asked for."

He makes a small, content noise, enjoying this a lot more than anything else that just took place. The hands on him, rubbing away his sores and twinges, it feels nice.

When he looks up again, he smiles once again. "M'yours now," he says softly. "Means I gotta be good for you."

Steve's face twists up into an uncomfortable expression and when he speaks, it's just as quiet. "Okay, Bucky. You be good and I'll do the same. Be as good for you as I can be."

Whether he means it or not will be something to see but at the moment, he can almost believe it might mean something pleasant is coming.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me elsewhere:  
> [My DW](http://rootsofthestories.dreamwidth.org) (which I use regularly)  
> [My Tumblr](http://analtarofstars.tumblr.com/) (which I am very rarely on)  
> [My Twitter](http://twitter.com/harvestgraces) (which I am on at random)


End file.
